Thirst Of Oblivion
by Mr. Monocle
Summary: *Oblivion Crisis era* Valeth the woodelf is a simple stable hand for the blades. But when she is sent for Martin due to one of the blades getting critically injured, she's dragged into the Oblivion Crisis, along with the stoic Vance and of course Martin Septim. Valeth is going to be forced into becoming a warrior and a part of something bigger than she ever dreamed of, fast.
1. Chapter 1

She wasn't a hero. She wasn't strong, nor was she much of an importance. No, she was simply a stable hand for the Blades. Her name was Valeth, and she was a bosmer with long red hair, emerald eyes and pale skin. Her build wasn't for fighting, though her arms and legs had strength due to the many years as a stable hand; with a sharp wit and strong determination as her main attribute.

So when the Blades asked her to retrieve a man named Martin from Kvatch, she was shocked to say the least. They had given her a set of leather armor that was too big for her small frame, an iron long-sword and standard bow and arrows then sent her off on a paint horse named Lili, despite her confusion and reluctance to carry out the task. Not only was she largely un-equipped for the journey and possible dangers, she had barely left the Cloud Temple since they had taken her in though the idea of seeing new places intrigued her.

It was a weeks journey to Kvatch if she was lucky. It would have gone faster had they given her a black horse, but she didn't mind, the gentle mare was good company, making their long journey less lonely.

* * *

Valeth slowed to a halt, her eyes widening in horror. She gazed upon Kvatch, the city blazing with fire whilst screams of terror and pain resonated off the crumbling walls. Terror struck her heart as she ushered the horse to a gallop, making her way to the front walls.

"Stand back citizen!" The Kvatch commander warned her. Valeth didn't hear him, her eyes fixated to the nightmare before her. An arch of thorns and flames stood tall, emanating an essence of pain and suffering. An overwhelming sense of dread befell her, and it took all of her will not to maneuver Lili away and far from Kvatch. Her attention snapped back to the present and she shook her head at her cowardly thoughts.

"What can I do to help?" The question tumbled out of her mouth almost unwillingly. She herself doubted she could do anything against the destruction before her, but her stubborn urge to help reared its head at her consciousness. The commander glanced at her, doubtful. Not that she blamed him.

"I guess we could use your help. See if you can get past the Scamps, and into the Chapel. I need you to protect everyone there and help push back those demons,"

Valeth nodded and ran past the gate with her heart pounding in her ears and throat with fear and adrenaline as she clumsily dodged the blasts of fire aimed her way. Miraculously, she managed to throw open the city's gates and shut them behind her quickly. Valeth took a deep breath and closed her eyes, resting her head against the wood behind her. What on Nirn had convinced her to play hero, she didn't know and quiet frankly she was terrified and rightfully so. She cracked her eyes open and that's when she saw it, at least 'them'.

The courtyard around the Chapel was crawling with Scamps, who -to Valeth's immense relief- hadn't noticed her yet. They were pacing and slithering impatiently, their forked tongues flicking in and out of their maws in anticipation. Luckily, Valeth noticed, they were rather distracted even to go as far as strike out against each other, initiating spats and brawls between groups of them.

Hopelessness filled Valeth as she observed the scattered Scamps. There was no way in Oblivion that she could fight them off nor could she sneak past them. Valeth crouched low to the ground, her hand brushing against a large stone as she steadied herself. She grimly stared at the large rock, wallowing in her own self-pity. She fingered the stone as an idea popped into her head.

With resolve she took hold of the stone fully and searched for a place to throw it. Across from her hiding place was the remains of an alchemy shop, whose sign was still intact and tied to loose chains. A flicker of hope struck Valeth as she chucked the rock at the sign, striking it successfully. The sign gave way to its chains and clattered noisily to the rubble below. Ceasing their scuffle, the Scamps went to investigate the noise.

"Nocturnal guide me." Valeth whispered and dashed towards the Chapel as the Scamps were distracted. Part of her was screaming at her to just stop and leave the way she came, and the other was encouraging her, telling her she was doing the right thing. Regardless Valeth pushed on towards the Chapel, until four lines of white-hot pain seared down her un-armored arm. Valeth screeched and stumbled.

She was so close, the steps to the entrance just inches away from her booted foot. She searched for the source of her pain finding a snarling scamp foaming at the mouth clutching on to her blood soaked arm. Valeth screeched again, this time out of fear which gave her a boost of strength she didn't know she had. Desperately she yanked her arm away from the scamp gritting her teeth as it's claws scraped further and deeper into her pale skin. Nonetheless she burst forward.

Her boot collided with one stone step. Then another. She was almost to the third step when two pairs of clawed hands raked down her back, another onto her left leg. With no energy left to scream she moaned in pain and almost succumbed to the stars and spots in her eyes until a much more gentle and human hand yanked her forward by her leather chest-plate and pulled her into the Chapel. As the doors swung shut Valeth could hear and feel a blast of fire just inches from her face, thankfully blocked by the receding doors.

Valeth fell to the floor at the sound of the metal bar locking in place behind the doors. Her vision swam with white stars in an inky blackness. She could feel herself bleeding out on the rug beneath her draining her strength away with it. Faintly she could hear someone yelling, a feminine voice with a callous undertone to it.

"Brother Martin! Come quick, This woman needs healing!"

The voice lulled Valeth soothing her and calming her raging heart beat. The voice reminded her of Nina, the old stern but extremely kind cleaning lady at the Cloud Rulers Temple. Valeth drifted off to a peaceful sleep too weak to keep her eyes open and her mind aware of her surroundings.

* * *

Martin's healing spell flowed steadily into the mysterious woodelf's body carefully stitching and kneading her wounds closed as much as he could. He had the other refugee's gather as many healing potions as they could find which were all in a pile beside him along with a few magicka potions for himself. He had been pouring his healing spell into the girl for an hour now, and he was exhausted to say the least. The girl was honestly a mystery to him, how she had stayed out there away from the Chapel's safety for so long and had survived was astonishing. He had seen first hand what those scamps were capable of, and how much delight they had doing it.

Martin shuddered as images of innocent people were ripped to shreds by those disgusting creatures were brought forward to his consciousness. Martin of course held himself responsible in some way, he was powerless against the sudden swarm of Daedra and all he could do was usher people into the Chapel. He had thrown a few fireballs at the Scamps in the attempt to slow them down if they got too close to him or the civilians, but his attempts were futile.

Martin shook himself from his wandering thoughts. He could dwell over them later but not while he was healing someone who desperately needed it. He sighed as he paused to uncork one of the magicka bottles. She was almost completely healed now, but she would be a little sore for a while after she wakes up which is inevitable.

Martin paused in his healing as the girl scrunched up her face. Slowly she came-to, blinking her eyes open and groaning. Her hand flew to her head in pain and she eyed Martin suspiciously.

He watched her as she contemplated what to say.

"W-where am I?" Her voice was raspy and weak as it passed through her lips. Martins eyes softened and he blew a gentle breath from his pursed lips.

"You're in the Chapel in Kvatch." Martin paused and thought of what to say next, "Do you remember anything?" The red-headed elf chuckled as she limply raised her upper body up.

"Yeah," she nodded wincing; "I sure do... I-I'm looking for someone named Martin. I think he's a priest, would you know of his whereabouts?"

Martins eyes widened and his brow rose. "I am Martin. Might I know your name?" How ironic it was to Martin that the person whom she was in search of was indeed him, and the sudden way her face lit up in hope stirred his heart making him believe that maybe; just maybe there was hope.

"Hello Martin. My name is Valeth, from the hold of Bruma."


	2. Chapter 2

The redguards brow furrowed. What did this small wood-elf want with Brother Martin? She guided the elf to the room, helping her into a chair and slowly made her way to Brother Martin.

"Brother Martin, there is someone here for you." Martins face donned a confused look. He had seen the small girl burst through the double doors, bloody and tattered. He was so busy healing the breton before him to help. He stood up weakly feeling drained from healing all of the wounded refugees and made his way to the elf.

He couldn't see much from where he stood. Her deep red hair was tangled into a low ponytail that from what he could see, reached mid-back and her long ears were neatly pointed. There was close to nothing left of her leather armor revealing her ripped bloody green tunic underneath. He reached the table and cleared his throat.

The sound startled her and she whipped around. Martin sat beside her. "You were requesting me?" Her eyes narrowed cautiously.

"Are you Martin?" She asked.

"Uh, yes, I am, who might you be?" She smiled brightly, all signs of pain off of her face.

"Hi! I'm Valeth!" she chirped. Martins eyebrows raised in surprise.

"hello Valeth, is there something you need of me?"

Hooves clip-clopped against the stone road leading up to Kvatch, gaining speed as it's rider gazed upon the burning remains of the once-great city. The man urged the horse to go faster up the stone hill, his black hair flying behind him and his and his horses armor clinking in sync.

"Halt! don't go any further, it's dangerous." A lone guard was posted a ways before the entrance of the city, stopping anybody from going any further.

"I'm here to help." The mans voice was smooth and deep. The guard hesitantly nodded and let him forward. He squeezed his horses sides to get him to continue cautiously to the gates. approaching a line of defense built up of guards, his eyes widened. A huge arched gate loomed before the city, seemingly made out of flames. every now and then demons would spew out of the opening, shooting fireballs and attacking with their razor sharp claws. Quickly he dismounted and pulled out his massive great-sword.

"What do I need to do?" The captain heaved a great sigh.

"We need you to go into that gate and shut it down. We've sent many good men in there and so far none have come back out. Please, help them if you can."

"Got it." The man started to walk off but the captain put his hand on his shoulder.

"Whats your name, soldier? In case you don't make it out, we'll want to recognize you when this whole mess is over."

"It's Vance. Wish me luck." He jumped into the fiery inferno and disappeared.

Oblivion is extremely hot. That's the first thing Vance noticed. The second thing he noticed was the soldier fighting against the Scamps. Quick into action Vance closed the distance between them quickly and hacked down the scamps.

"Oh thank the gods! I didn't think I'd see another friendly face again!" The mans sweating and weary face smiled but quickly vanished as a look of panic washed over his expression. "Menien! We have to save him! Those demons took him!" The soldier grabbed onto Vance's pauldrons and held him in a vice like grip. Vance stumbled in the mans frenzie but attempted to calm him.

"Sir, I'm sure they needed him for a reason. They wouldn't just kidnap him then kill him off." He tried to say in what he thought was a hopeful voice. He honestly had no idea what the deadra would do with the man, but he hopped he could save him on his way to close the gate. Somehow.

The soldier calmed down. "You know what you're right. I'll- I'll go back to the General, tell them I'm okay. No, no, I should stay with you. For Menien." The weary soldier straightened his helmet and readied his weapon.

Vance sighed. He wasn't a sympathetic man, usually stoic to the world, but this man who was weak and tired and well aware of it was willing to spend more time in this cursed plane of Oblivion itself for a single man who might not even be alive. He smiled a twitch. "No soldier, you'd do more help holding back whatever deadra get out of the gate. I will get your friend, you go back get some rest and heal yourself up. If not for yourself for me and your friend." Vance could swear that was the most he's talked in months. The soldier teared up and nodded, heading off to Tamriel. Vance shook his head, heading to the looming tower that he assumed was where he needed to go.


	3. Chapter 3

Vance was sweating profusely through his newly acquired deadric armor. Those dastardly strong maces had managed to cut through his previous armor, so he stripped the deadra he just slain and replaced his soiled armor. Though he had to admit he did like the new armor quiet a bit. Sheathing his sword he clunked upstairs opening more countless doors until he came into a room that at first glance seemed very small. Until you looked up that is. All he could say was. Stairs. Lots of 'em. Then he noticed a cage hanging precariously over a sphere of huge spikes.

He set his journey upon the stairs until he was level with the cage and peered in. An old man in nothing put sack trousers was defeatedly sitting against the walls of his prison. Vance whistled. The man whipped his head towards him his neck popping loudly. He sprung up, one of his legs almost catching through the big gaps in the cage.

"You have to get out of here! Go up these stairs, into that room and kill the Sigil keeper, he's got the key and close the gate! Hurry!" The man shouted frantically on the verge of insanity.

"Are you Menien?" Nod. "Sorry soldier, Orders are that I can't leave without you. Duck until i say you can get up." The speechless yet angry man listened and cowered.

Vance crouched down, grabbing an arrow that was large but small enough to get through the gaps in the cage, and tied an end of rope -which he coincidentally had with him- to the shaft, and the other end to one of the spikes on his armor on his hip. Knocking it, he took extra time to aim, then let the arrow fly. The arrow flew threw both corresponding gaps on either sides of the cage and the drooped down due to the ropes weight.

"Listen soldier, When i tell you to jump, you jump like a chicken on fire got it? Now, when i start pulling the cage towards me, climb out and hang on to the cage until my signal." He didn't wait for confirmation, he just started to pull the rope towards him. luckily, the arrow didn't just slide through the gaps, instead it lodged itself into the gaps underneath the one it was shot through, so pulling it to him without it sliding out wasn't a problem. It was the weight.

Menien crawled out of the door and hung on to the cage, gradually climbing to the side closest to his savior like a cat with its whiskers singed. the cage jerkily and slowly swung closer to Vance. "Jump soldier!" Vance shouted. Menien closed his eyes, held his breath and let his wrangled body fly. His breath escaped him as he hit the ground hard, skidding a few feet away from the edge, away from the spikes. He had to catch his breath. He was too old for this, dammit. He opened his eyes to see his savior offering a hand which he gladly accepted.

"Sorry, soldier, I would have caught you but my armor would have impaled you. Kind of defeats the purpose of saving you, I guess." Menien gave a helpless laugh/cry

"yeah, I guess."

Vance started to unclasp his chest piece. Successfully unclasping it, he offered it to Menien along with a deadric mace which he was planning on saving, but duty calls. "You wouldn't be any good dead, and I promised to bring you back so take these. Do your best to let me fight, if you see something coming at my back feel free to distract it, but other than that let me handle it."

They had gotten to the Sigilium Sanguis successfully, without Menien getting himself hurt and killing the keeper easily. They were drowning in sweat, ready to get the whole ordeal over already. Vance groaned when he saw how many scamps and deadra there were. He turned to Menien. "I'll need your help after all. Scamps are easy to kill, so I'll leave those to you. But I swear to the gods if there's more then two on your back and you don't yell for help, it wont be the scamps you're fighting." he growled.

Menien nodded, and readied his mace with a conjuration spell in his other hand. They charged, or limped, and hacked and slashed the enemies away, with only a few minor injuries left.

"Pick up that Sigil stone. That'll close the gate." Menien instructed. Vance raised his brow.

"how do you know all of this?" Menien shrugged.

"It's amazing what people... or deadra... tell you when they plan on killing you." Menien and Vance chuckled. Vance grasped Menien's arm and lifted the Sigil stone. A blinding flash of light burst as soon as the stone left its pedestal and they were returned to Tamriel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Set during same time that Vance was in Oblivion~**

Valeth was set up with a dress with the skirt up of chain-mail with fur underneath the metal to keep her warm and comfortable, gauntlets, and fur boots. The corset part of the dress was hand-stitched leather and soft long blue sleeves. She was given a silver bow and a full quiver which she happily inspected and admired, along with a pretty silver dagger hidden in her corset. Martin and an apprentice mage had healed her worst wounds, then bandaged the minor ones.

She was just sitting around and eating a lot when a hoard of soldiers burst through the double-doors, breaking the bar that had kept them safe. They were sweating and some of them had minor wounds, but all had small hopeful smiles on their faces. The assumed captain stepped forward and exchanged words with the two redguard guards for a few minutes. The captains eyes scanned the chapel until they landed on her. He pointed at her and beckoned her to him.

"You. We need your help. Follow us." The captain nodded at the two guards and he and his soldiers left with Valeth clumsily dashing after them. They marched out of the chapel into the castle courtyard. "Listen soldiers, we need to get into the castle and save the count. None of us is leaving until he is safe, so lets go." There were scamps in the courtyard, wheres the soldiers had killed off all of the scamps in the front of the chapel. Valeth drew her bow and hung back with the other archers and tried her best to help pick of the scamps. once they were all dead they headed towards the castle gates.

The captain cursed profusely. The gates were locked. He turned towards Valeth. "Go back to the chapel, And unlock the gates from inside the gate-house. But you'll need the key for the North guard house from Inain. Hurry, go!"

Valeth ran back to the chapel, jumping over dead bodies of the scamps and rubble from the destroyed houses then finally burst into the chapel. Inain hurried over to her along with the female redguard. "Is something wrong?"

"The castle gates are locked, and we need to get through the north guard house to open them." She explained. Inain nodded in understanding.

"I'll grab the key and come with you, give me a minute." Inain left to grab the key. Valeth walked over to the table and sat down next to Martin to get a drink of water when three men in Legion armor walked up to her.

"We heard the city was attacked by deadra and that you were helping hold them back. We're here to help in anyway we can." The one with the imperial bow said.

Valeth smiled gratefully. "Thank you. just follow me I guess and do what you can."

Inain came back, key in hand. He told her to follow him underneath the chapel where they killed a few scamps. They opened the gates and fought off all the scamps in the castle, unfortunately losing two soldiers on the way. It turns out that the count had sadly been killed, which Valeth passed on the the captain, who mourned and gave up his cuirass to her.

Thankfully the chapel had been evacuated and the survivors who had taken refuge in the city were now healing and resting in the camp outside of Kvatch. Valeth slugishly limped out of the city, having to throw her body against the massive gates to get them open, only to be greeted by arrow tops pointed at her. She dropped the cuirass and put her hands up. "I-it's uh me?" The general (second in command to the captain) raised his hand signalling them to lower their knocked arrows.

"It's safe! Lower your weapons!" The general returned to talking to the two men in-front of him. Valeth huffed and picked her cuirass back up and headed over to her horse who the men must of tied up safely behind some trees. She clipped the cuirass to the horses saddle bag somehow and was about to attempt to get on when one of the men that the general was talking to called out to her.

 _ **I'll try to update at least once a month, but since second semester of high-school has started I'm going to be pretty busy. I try to keep the chapter 700- 800 words, and thank you to my first (and only lol) reviewer, I also enjoy Oblivion Crisis-era fanfics. If you have any thoughts or constructive criticism I'd love to know. Good day!**_


	5. Chapter 5

Valeth turned to the man calling her, finding that she had to look up to be able to see his eyes.

"Yes?" Her tired voice rasped out. She was tired and sweaty and in immense amounts of pain. She didn't want to talk to the shirtless bear of a man, but her manners and conscious told her to.

"So, you're the one who helped protect the city, correct?" Nod. "Good, I thank you for that. I'm assuming that you know of a Martin Septim?" The man stated more than asked. Valeth perked to full attention and eyed the black-haired man cautiously.

"What's it to you?" She snapped, earning a glare from the man.

"It was a simple question. I need him for-" He was cut off as an old man clad in trousers and a vicious looking cuirass in his grasp. Valeth took this time to sneak off on her horse galloping down the sloped curvy road and into the camp.

When Valeth arrived at the camp, she was relieved to find Martin resting by a campfire chatting lightly with the other refugees. She hopped off of her horse and went to sit next to him. There was a strange chill in the air that seeped into their bones despite having a raging inferno of Oblivion previously standing before the gates. Everybody was shivering, some from the cold others from the denial of losing their precious loved ones. Valeth felt sorrow for the poor people of Kvatch.

"I'm glad you made it out well, Valeth." Martin broke the silence. Valeth nodded.

"Likewise, Martin." Valeth gave a weary smile, and fell back into silence.

"So, Valeth, you said that you were searching for me. What for?"

Valeth contemplated her response. In truth, she didn't know herself. "Honestly I've no idea. I'm a simple stable hand for a… group of people. One day, one of the members came rushing into the stables. They were panicked, and hurriedly told me to look for a priest named Martin and set me up with armor and weapons. Oh, and a horse. I don't know why they need you, all I know is that I need to get you there fast." She finished her explanation with a yawn as Martin contemplated her words.

They decided to rest there for a few minutes, before everyone was alerted to the sounds of heavy hoof clops up the curved road. A warrior clad in spiky red and black armor dismounted his black horse.

"Is there a 'Martin' here?" His gravelly voice causef Valeth ears to perk and she frowned. Martin sighed and rose to his feet.

"I beleive you are looking for me." Valeth rose to stand next to the priest, hands on her hips.

" I need you to come with me. There are important… events at hand." He took his helmet off, bound inky black hair tumbling down his back. Martins eyebrows furrowed.

"You need me as well? Care to explain as to why?" The warrior sighed impatiently.

"the Daedra are after you, and you're the last remaining heir to the throne." Martin chuckled.

"No I am but a simple priest, and a son of a poor farmer. You hace the wrong person."

"No, Martin Septim, I am not wrong. Come with me, or the daedra will take over Tamriel." He bluntly told the priest. Martin looked down, unbelieving. He stood there for another few minutes before deciding.

"You freed the city and it's people from an impending doom… I don't beleive you, yet, you have no reason to lie. I… will go with you. What is your name, hero of Kvatch?"

Glancing at the priest, then to Valeth. "It's Vance. And you, elf? I'm assuming you're tagging along judging from your reaction earlier." Valeth perked up and sized the man up.

"I'm valeth. And yes, I shall be tagging along. Might we know where we are heading to?"

"Theres a man in the Priory named Jauffre who is… linked to Martin." Valeths green eyes lit up and she smiled exitedly.

"Jauffre? I haven't seen him in so long!" She exitedly shifted her weight from foot to foot. Vance looked at the tiny elf, curious.

"You know Jauffre?" Valeth nodded vigorously.

"Oh yes, of course I do! He's a part of the Blades, and he is so nice to me. It'll be nice to see him again." Vance nodded, and mounted his horse signalling for the others to do so as well.

"Elf, you may ride with me and let the heir ride your horse." Valeth looked from Martin, to her horse, to the intimidating Vance, and back again. Shrugging, she hoisted herself up onto Vances horse, Martin following suit onto the other horse. They headed Weynon Priory, not far from Kvatch.


	6. Chapter 6

Vance was ready to tear his hair out. They were Traveling at a slow pace to Weynon Priory, and the small amount of time he'd been in the company if Valeth and Martin was enough to drive him insane. He was certain Sheogorath was hovering behind them, relishing in Vance's frustration. Valeth the redheaded elf passed out from her wounds and was currently drooling all over his shoulder. Martin was brooding and quiet, occasionally murmuring under his breath something incoherent. He breathed in relief when he saw Weynon Priory in the distance, but his relief was short lived when he saw flames and smoke coming from the town.

Martin noticed as well, and kicked his horse into a gallop along-side Vance and Valeth. They jumped off of their horses with Valeth gaining consciousness and stumbling along with them. Assassins clad in red robes and black armor attacked the town but were soon taken down by Vance, Martin, Valeth and a few residents who gained the courage to fight with them. Vance rushed them to the Chapel to find Jauffre taking on two of the Assassins at once. They quickly hacked the assassins down with ease and shethed their weapons.

Jauffre looked dubiously at Valeth. "Valeth... what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at the stables?" Though he was happy to see the elf he was also concerned of her presence there.

Valeth shrugged, "Bella sent me to 'retrieve' Martin, but apparently they sent someone else too." she gestured at Vance who stood impassively to her right. Jauffres eyes widened fearfully.

"The amulet! They were after the amulet!" He dashed up the stairs and to the right into a small room that Vance had never noticed and flew around the room, tearing and throwing everything out of place. Drawers were sprawled across the room and parchment and ink littered everywhere.

Jauffre fell to his knees with a soundless gasp and covered his face sorrowfully. "The amulet... it's gone... they took it. All is lost, I tell you. We have failed." He rasped. Valeth's eyes teared up. Seeing the man in such a state tore at her soul, though she didn't know why he was making such a fuss over an amulet.

"Not all is lost, Jauffre. I have the heir with me." Vance assured the man.

"Th-that's right... we need to get to cloud ruler temple immediately. Come, there are horses available at the stable." He lead the out to the stables. He mounted a young paint horse, Martin the chestnut horse. Valeth retired her own paint horse and mounted the white stallion instead, hugging the old paint mare goodbye.

They arrived at the temple a day later. Jauffre had explained what was going on to Valeth, who felt guilty and shed a few tears (Much to the embarrassment of the three men) and sent a prayer to Akatosh for the emperor. Once they had climbed up the steep and long set of stone steps, Jauffre told them to wait at the gaits while he alerted the Blades of their arrival. Six highly armored warriors clambered out of the temple and lined up opposite of each other. three on the right, three on the left forming a walkway. They all saluted to Martin who nervously walked over to Jauffre's side.

They all hailed him, and he spoke a heartfelt speech off the top of his head. The Blades continued what they were previously doing, marching into the temple, while some lingered outside to spar and train. Martin turned to Valeth and Vance.

"So, how'd I do? This all feels so... new. Everybody expects me to lead them... to be their emperor... I don't want to let them down, but I don't know if I can do this." He spoke truthfully eyes downcast shamefully. Valeth smiled at the priest.

"I know this is new to you, but I'm confident that you'll do just fine." She assured. Martin opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the temple doors slamming against the stone. A furious blonde nord stormed towards Valeth with tears streaming down her eyes. She looked sickly, eyes sunken and skin pale.

She approached Valeth and slapped her across the face with the back of her ringed hand. A fresh batch of tears poured down her face as she snarled at the elf who had fallen to her knees due to the force of the woman's assault.

"What took you so long! You pathetic stable-hand! Jeralt is dead because of you! I hate you!" She went to attack the elf once more but was held back by Vance, who handed her to one of the blades who was training. Jauffre hurried outside, hearing the commotion. He ordered the Blade to take her inside and lock her in her room. He then made his way over to the trio and looked Valeth over. Her right cheek was an angry red, with a bleeding scratch from Bell's ring across her face.

"I apologize for Bella's behavior, Valeth. Jeralt's death has affected her greatly." Jauffre apologized gravely. Valeth's eyes pricked with tears.

"Jeralt... is dead?" Jauffre nodded her confirmation.

"He died shortly before we arrived. The Blade's have buried him, if you would like to say your goodbyes."

Valeth shook her head and stood to her feat weakly. She trudged over to their horses and lead them to the stone stables. Martin followed her with his eyes sadly before Jauffre ushered him into the temple.

 _ **So this chapter is more revolved around Valeth. I'm trying not to give her more attention than the others, but she**_ **is** _ **the main character. I also added two new Blade's members (One now) instead of killing off the original Blades. I (obviously) wrote this chapter in a rush, so my apologies. I might make up for it by putting in another chapter this month, but it's up to you guys c: I hope you liked it and have an amazing spring break!**_


	7. Chapter 7

Vance heaved open the doors to Luther Broads Boarding House and stomped inside, ignoring the stares he received for his daedric armor. He was use to them. He had considered changing his apparel to something less spiky and cumbersome and _noticeable_ but he decided against it. He left his helmet on and patrolled the room, searching for Baurus before quickly finding him. Vance settled into the tool next to the redguard and ordered a tankard of mead.

"Hello, there. Wonderful weather we're having, the nightshades in particular are blooming extravagantly this time of season." Baurus said lightly. Vance eyed him but nodded nonetheless.

"It seems so." Baurus leaned towards the imperial slightly lowering his voice. Vance had to strain his ears to hear the redguards words.

"Listen. I'm going to get up in a minute and walk out of here. That guy in the corner behind me," he gestured lightly to the raven-haired Breton seemingly reading a book, "will follow me. You follow him." Baurus laughed falsely. "Good chat old friend. May Akatosh guide you." He rose from the stool, quickly disappearing around the corner.

Vance waited. A few minutes later the Breton also rose from his chair and followed the redguard. Waiting for a minute Vance unsheathed his dagger, paying the man at the bar and followed the Breton quietly.

Vance arrived just as the Breton revealed his true identity, throwing his dagger into the Breton's chest just as he summoned his magic. Baurus nodded his thanks. "I'll let you check his body. Let me know if you find anything interesting."

Vance nodded and knelt to search the corpse while Baurus perused the small room. Flipping open the Breton's over-coat, his hand patted thoroughly underneath the scratchy wool until his fingers hit a solid leather surface. His fingers grasped at the object and firmly tugged it out.

"Baurus, look."

 *****Time jump*****

The young Imperial moaned in pain and exhaustion as he lumbered up the Temples hundreds of steps, his black stallion matching his own steps with equal weariness. He still wore the retched robes of the Mythic Dawn, his daedric armor clinking in sync in his saddlebags. Somehow managing to make it to the top of the steps, he led his horse over to the stables.

The nickering and light snores of horses mixed with the scent of hay and stone sent him into a state of relaxation. Two small torches flickered in the corners away from the horses. Vance slipped the stallions bridle, saddlebags and saddle off calmly.

"Sorry boy, I'll brush you down tomorrow." He whispered. His yes caught to a splash of color in the corner of the stables. Nestled in a large pile of hay was the Elf. 'V _aleth, I think was her name.'_ Her red was braided and coiled around her curled up body. She was wearing a green tunic that trailed down to her knees that adorned beige trousers. He scoffed. She was weak. In a sense, she was also strong. He shrugged.

He didn't know the Elf well enough to assess her weaknesses and possible strengths. Heaving a sigh he threw his horses blanket over the Elf and left the stables with a white book clutched in his grasp which emanated pure evil. His free hand twitched in barely restrained want, his eyes flicking to the book every other second. The book called to him with unspoken but easily felt evil. His brows furrowed. He was completely fine when he finally set the cursed book in the saddle bag, too tired to notice the pull of the book, _Mysterium Xarxes,_ it was called. At least, that's what Jauffre had called it.

He didn't care what it was called as long as he could get rid of it, and soon. His boots crunched in the snow softly as he trotted up the few stairs into the temple leisurely. He had gathered all three of the Mythic Dawn books in the span of two days, allowing him to stop by the temple quickly and update Martin and Jauffre of his quick progress then set out again to get the _Mysterium Xarxes_ , which had taken much longer than he would have liked. He was just glad that his horse had an amazing amount of endurance and stamina even though he lacked speed, but that was what the horses of Skyrim were known for. And damned expensive, too.

Before he knew it he was pushing open the doors to the Temple, the aroma of old books and parchment were strong in the air, and Vance relaxed again. Martin was hunched over an open book, with towers of other books looming around him. His eyes held angry purple bags under them and his hair was starting to gray, despite his young age. His nose stayed buried in the book even as Vance approached him, until Vance threw the white book on top of the one he was currently reading.

"Vance! You're back? So soon? I-" Martins voice sharply cut off as he realized exactly what book was in front of him. "T-this book... Do you realize the danger you put yourself in by carrying it..?" Martin asked. Vance scoffed.

"Of course I did. Just be glad I brought it to you in the first place, I'm sure someone else would have been willing to join the Mythic Dawn, then steal a book that tries to suck out your very soul every time you touch it." Vance snarled as he gestured down to his apparel. Martin flinched at the mans tone, then took note of the Imperial's appearance. His inky black hair was unbound, slithering down to his chest in tangles that contrasted greatly with the silk red robe he wore. His crystalline blue eyes were alight in anger and exhaustion and his teeth were bared in a snarl.

Martin tilted his head "I apologize. I am grateful for your efforts, as is everyone else. You must be tired, we'll talk tomorrow." Martin dismissed him, and Vance gladly left with his vision blurry in exhaustion. He didn't even get the robe he was wearing off before he passed out in his room, landing heavily on his bed.


	8. Chapter 8

Martins mop of grey and brown hair bobbed up and down as he slipped in and out of sleep. Finally, his head slipped completely off of his hand and collided with the cherry-wood desk he sat at. He winced in pain but let his head rest against the cool wood. Deciding that a walk into the biting ice-cold wind of Bruma's province would wake him up enough to get back to the _M_ _ysterium Xarxes_. The moon was high in the sky without a cloud in sight as Martin tugged the furs tighter around his shoulders as his feet crunched into the snow.

He strolled around aimlessly before coming upon the stables. His brows furrowed when he heard a sneeze from the inside of the stone structure. With determined steps he entered through the door-less entrance and lay his eyes upon a heap of red hair and hay covered by a black horse blanket. Martin knelt down and uncovered the head of hair to reveal a sleeping Valeth. She was shivering and muttering in her sleep.

Doing his best to not wake the elf, he slipped his arms under her knees and back and heaved her up to his chest. He carried her into the temple and over to one of the Blades who was up late training.

"Excuse me," The Blade noticed Martin and bowed. "Where is her room? I found her asleep in the stables." Martin gestured to the red head asleep in his arms. The Blade shook his head.

"She doesn't have one. She lives in the stables, since she isn't a Blade like all of us. She's just the one who takes care of the horses and the occasional livestock we receive." Martin was baffled as the blade stopped bowing and resumed his training.

How could she not have a room? She lived here, did she not? Martin finally decided to lug her up to his un-used room upstairs. The room was empty, furnished with a single desk and chair, a large bed with a canopy of fine silk and cheap green curtains adorning the windows along with other cheap looking tapestries. He carefully set her on the bed covering her with the grey wool blanket and left to return to his study.

Two weeks have passed since Vance brought him the _M_ _ysterium Xarxes_ , who had disappeared the next day, muttering about 'leaving this Gods' damned temple' and 'time to pay a visit to the fence'. Martin didn't know who (or what) the 'fence' was, but it obviously took up a lot of time seeing as how he hadn't been back in two weeks. He was halfway through translating the book with maybe three more days needed to actually finish it and he was exhausted.

Finally the temptations of sleep over whelmed him and his head rested on the covers of his many books.

 **XxXx Valeth's POV**

I woke with a start. I slowly sat up, my disoriented vision and mind slowly coming into focus as my ears zeroed in on the sound of banging at the door. I hastily jumped from the bed, flinging the covers down to the floor in the process.

"Yes, I'm coming!" I shouted, scanning the room for the door and finally rushing over to open it. I almost wish that hadn't. The door swung open to reveal a flustered Jauffre impatiently tapping his foot and glaring at me.

"Come with me, Valeth." He commanded in a clipped tone. I wonder why he is so grumpy all of the time. Especially towards me. I shrugged those thoughts off and smiled at him, nodding for him to lead the way to which he 'humphed' and grouchily sulked away.

"Hey Jauffre, why was I in that room? I was perfectly fine in the stables, I have been for years." It was baffling as to why Jauffre of all people would go through the effort to make me comfortable. Jauffre snorted indignantly.

" _I_ was not the one who put you there. Martin put you there, in his _own_ room." He shook his head, as if the idea was unbelievable to him, which it probably was.

Martin went through the effort to take me out of the stables, and let me rest in _his_ bed? The thought made heat rush to my face, which confuses me. We have only known each other for... four, five weeks? I again shrugged, nearly losing Jauffre as we turned a sharp corner, right into Jauffre's bleak, empty and _dull_ office. How fitting, I giggled. Jauffre sat behind the desk and gestured for me to sit across from him.

I have never been in Jauffre's office before, despite living here for years; though his lack of personality in the room didn't surprise me.

"Listen, Valeth." Jauffre's serious tone snapped me out of my thoughts. "I'm going to get right to the point, Oblivion gates have been opening everywhere, which means the Mythic Dawn have been getting confident, lashing out more than usual."

I had heard of the Mythic Dawn from the gossiping of the Blades soldiers and a little from Martin when he would come outside to sooth his thoughts and have faint conversations with me.

"Which leads to me bringing you here. We need as many fighters and healers as we can possibly accumulate." He pointedly gestured to me, "Including you, Valeth." My eyes widened and I gasped.

"What? I can't fight or heal! What in Nirn are you thinking?"

"That's not what Martin says. Besides, this isn't the point I am trying to make, Valeth. You are going to train with my Blades, learn how to fight. If you don't take to fighting, I will request a mage from Bruma to teach you what you need to know. Anything you wish to say?"

I shook my head my thoughts jumbled. There was no way I could possibly say no, after all he is the one who took me in and has provided for me for years when nobody else would.

Jauffre clapped. "Great! You'll start today, seeing as how it's still early within the day. Baurus will set you up with your armor and a weapon of your choosing." I just nodded to his words, standing up and leaving the room when he dismissed me.

What have I gotten myself into?


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello my lovelies I'm back from my slumbering! While I was away, I took the time to revise Chapter one, so instead of adding more chapters I will be tweaking/editing/ adding stuff onto existing ones. If you beautiful people have any opinions, thoughts, or things you'd like added to some of them feel free to PM/review c: I'll be posting/replacing the first chapter again after this note so keep a look out!**

 **Stay lovely, ~Mr. Monocle**


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